"Ian also said this..."
Hermione felt a sense of déjà vu.
She widened her eyes and watched as Professor Snape's jawline suddenly tensed.
The moonlight skimmed over the slightly twitching corner of the Potions Master's mouth as Snape abruptly turned around, the glow at the tip of his wand suddenly intensified, compressing Hermione's shadow into a twisted black lump pinned against the tree trunk.
He was obviously very angry.
And wouldn't dare to hit a little wizard.
In the end, he could only glare at Hermione fiercely, tossing his black cloak as he quickened his pace, leaving Hermione to jog to keep up with him.
"Professor, do you think Ian is still alive?" Hermione's heart was pounding like a drum, worried about Ian's safety, and also exhausted from the excessive exercise, which tested her slightly frail physique.
"His life is much tougher than you think."
Snape's tone was very cold, but he ultimately responded.
"Hiss—"
Right at this moment, a rumble of breaking tree branches sounded from deep within the Forbidden Forest, Snape spun around, shielding Hermione with astonishing speed. Three spiders, each the size of hunting dogs, dropped from the canopy.
Their dark red compound eyes reflected eerie light in the fire. Hermione's scream stuck in her throat—she hadn't even had time to cry out before Snape's wand traced a sharp arc.
No incantation.
The instantaneous magic immediately caused the three spiders to die violently.
"That's amazing!"
Hermione gasped, looking at Snape in shock; she hadn't expected him to be so formidable, perhaps most little wizards couldn't anticipate it.
"Don't look at me with that idiot expression." Snape flicked his wand, "Miss Granger, if flattery could pass the Potion exam, Hogwarts would have long become a nest of liars. Flattery won't help you win a professor's favor, instead, it might expose you as a hypocrite."
Snape's sarcastic voice was as usual.
"..."
Hermione was left speechless by his retort.
The faint admiration she had just felt for Snape instantly vanished. Regardless of how powerful a professor might be, a sharp tongue makes it hard for them to be well-liked by students.
"Stupefy!"
Snape cast another spell.
A dark shadow stiffened in mid-air for a moment, then fell heavily to the ground. Hermione focused on it, realizing it was a venomous viper, now limply lying in the pile of fallen leaves.
Completely unconscious.
It was a protected species, rare in number, so Snape didn't deal a killing blow. After all, he would often come into the Forbidden Forest to extract venom from such snakes.
For a Master of Brewing Potions, sustainable development principles are very important.
The two continued forward, Snape's steps remained steady, as if the dangers in the Forbidden Forest were but embellishments during a stroll. Hermione cautiously observed her surroundings.
Suddenly, her gaze was drawn to a glowing plant.
"Is that... Moonlight Grass?"
Hermione instinctively spoke.
Snape paused, also not overly worried about Ian, glancing aside from the Iron Tower: "Wrong, it's a Glowing Mushroom. Moonlight Grass has serrated edges on its leaves, this one doesn't."
It must be said.
As the Potion Master.
He did have some appreciation for Hermione's talent, promptly correcting Hermione's mistake. Every Master of Magic Potions is actually an expert in Herbology.
However.
Hermione paused for a moment.
Then felt a bit unconvinced.
"But, Professor Snape, I do remember the textbook, the Herbology textbook 'A Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi' clearly states—"
She hadn't finished her sentence.
Snape interrupted her, his tone still cold, "If you really read the latest 'Magic Herb Plant Atlas Correction Collection,' you wouldn't make such a mistake."
Hermione widened her eyes.
"There's a correction collection?"
Her blind spot was clearly touched, Snape's expression was mocking, as if ridiculing her ignorance, but he said nothing more, merely continuing forward.
"Alright, Professor, I was wrong." Hermione bit her lip, silently noting the book title. Their steps did not pause, not greatly hindering their search for Ian.
Perhaps admitting fault indeed worked.
When a Poisonous Tentacle Vine with metallically glistening leaves emerged from the pile of decaying leaves.
Snape's guidance continued.
"Tell me, the proper way to handle this mutant potion herb," his voice carried a chilling calm, as he squatted down to collect the magic potion materials he encountered.
His nephew's safety paled in comparison to the importance of potion materials?
That guy should receive some lessons!
"Uh..." Hermione stared at the twisted tendrils, the description in the textbook clashed fiercely with the actual scene before her. "Perhaps... wash it with diluted moonstone solution?"
She tried to speak.
Only to see the professor's mouth curled into a cold arc.
"Outdated theory should have long been locked away in Gringotts vault." Snape ruthlessly gave his mockery, the textbook content, sometimes truly seemed outdated to him.
"If you're smart enough, you'd know you should use..." Snape continued walking with Hermione, providing explanation, and when they finally arrived at a charred clearing.
Hermione's breathing abruptly quickened.
"It's here!" She pointed at the floor covered with scorch marks, "Senior Ian conjured a flying carpet here to send us back to the castle! Look, his magical traces are still there!"
Snape's gaze fell on the ground, his pupils slightly shrinking. The charred land still retained a large amount of magic fluctuation, a powerful force sufficient to make even him feel palpitations.
The area swept by the Fiendfyre precisely avoided a small patch of ground, evidently where the three unfortunate students had stood; such control is difficult to achieve even for him.
After all, it is Fiendfyre.
Very few wizards can control it to this extent.
"Dumbledore's teachings, huh..." Snape seemed to gain new awareness of Ian's strength, but maintained the belief that this stemmed from Dumbledore's guidance to Ian.
It must be said.
Even as an elite-level spy, Snape still lacked some acumen, perhaps because he had never witnessed Grindelwald using Fiendfyre.
Otherwise.
He likely would have discerned that Ian's Fiendfyre bore Grindelwald's influence. Though it had formed its own style, still ultimately bore the "instruction" traces.
Of course.
Even without perceiving this.
After sensing the remaining magic fluctuations, Snape's emotions relaxed a bit, perhaps the Forbidden Forest's dragons couldn't truly be Ian's match.
"Such strength... Dumbledore probably couldn't reach this level in his youth." Snape didn't know whether to be annoyed or pleased, he just knew he was lucky that Dumbledore harbored particular affection for Ian.
That indulgence is quite unreasonable.
Yet for Ian, it indeed was fortunate; otherwise, if Ian were perceived as a second Riddle, Snape doubted Ian would have a chance to survive to adulthood.
He was gradually understanding his old headmaster better.
"Which way did he go?" Snape turned again towards Hermione, who recalled the direction she heard the terrifying Dragon Roar come from earlier.
"Ian went that way..." Hermione's memory was very strong, she pointed in a direction, and just as she intended to continue speaking.
"Roar!"
A deafening roar tore through the clouds.
Far-off treetops trembled violently.
That was the terrifying roar of a dragon.
Not only did Hermione feel the tremor of the soul, even Snape was utterly shocked and shaken by the sound—it was surely not the fearsome sound capable of being emitted by regular dragons he knew.
"Damnit! That's not a dragon at all!"
Snape's expression was full of shock.
Before Hermione could react, she was dragged by Snape towards the source direction of the Dragon Roar. Night wind howled, tree shadows passed swiftly, she'd never seen Snape so frantic.
His black robe billowed like angry waves.
The chill in his eyes had been replaced by urgent fury.
Hermione's heart almost burst from her chest.
Even the professor was scared?
Could Ian still be alive?